


Thank You

by waywardmuppet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble, Ficlet, M/M, Requested, Sassy, Sastiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:20:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardmuppet/pseuds/waywardmuppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short requested one shot of Sassy. Might continue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank You

Dean left on a Saturday.

Nothing Sam had said stopped him, and even Castiel’s continued offers of assistance were all denied. None of that was surprising of course; the eldest Winchester had always been stubborn as all hell.

“Sammy,” he’d scolded, “I have places to go and people to see. Why don’t you get your frilly ass back to law school? That’s where you want to be – that’s where you belong.”

And that had been it – Dean vanished without a word from the motel, and Sam hadn’t seen him since. Truth be told, however, Sam wasn’t really looking.

Weeks went by and Sam couldn’t bring himself to speak – words kept getting stuck in his throat – which always itched like quality sandpaper. He wanted to go back to law school. Everything inside of him longed for the normalcy, for the unparalleled leisure in learning that came with throwing himself into an intelligent class. But the dusty books in a long-forgotten schoolbag felt foreign to him now, and that’s when the wandering started.

It began with little things – trips to landmarks like the Statue of Liberty and Niagara Falls – trips to coffee shops that lasted hours – trips to bookstores that made him feel out of place – they were first.

Extended stays in luxurious hotels, excessive running, lack of eating – these all came after, and the effects of the latter endeavors were beginning to etch their mark into Sam Winchester’s face. Half circles of blue and black lingered just below the hunter’s eyes, the man’s cheeks sinking more and more into themselves with each passing ‘I’ll only have a coffee,’ to concerned diner waitresses. Something inside of Sam was hollow – and the feeling would not go away, no matter how desperately he ran from his problems.

“Sam.” Castiel had found him back at the hotel – and Sam had to admit that the angel was good. For weeks he’d hidden himself using the well-known wards; but one mistake was all it took, and now here they were.

“I’m fine, Cas.” Lies on the tip of his tongue like acid, readily accessible and so much easier than the truth. If he was fine, then Dean was fine. And that made Cas fine – which made  _everything_ fine. Oh, god, it was just a sickening circle of ‘fines’.

“I am not uneducated, Sam. I know enough to understand when a human is not sleeping or eating.”

The hunter’s eyebrows raised, but Sam said nothing, instead choosing to continue on with gathering his supplies for bed. Castiel knew him far too well, and he recalled Dean saying once that Cas could be slightly ‘creepy’. But Sam was unsure as to whether or not ‘creepy’ was the right word.

The angel and himself – they had always been connected, like they shared some sort of brain wavelength. And Sam wished to God – not that it would help at all – that whatever connection they had would disappear, at least for the time being. Cas’ presence was complicating things.

“Insomnia’s pretty common, Cas. I’m doing alright here. Just finding ways to pass the time.”

“I hear you’re not hunting.”

“Well – you hear right.”

The two men shared a silence, both sets of eyes blinking at each other. Neither of them liked to make the first move, to take the first step. It would be out of character.

“Cas,” Sam finally found his voice, his eyes sliding to the window, intent on looking anywhere that wasn’t the angel’s face. Looking at him was too difficult – too personal. “I  _asked_ you for space and you agreed. We both said it would be for the best –”

“That was before.”

The angel was always so straightforward, and the simple reply forced a twitch from the corners of Sam’s ever-frowning mouth.

“Before what?”

“You’ve stopped eating. Dean would not have wanted this for you, Sam. He left and told you to go back to school. I thought that was what–”

“Stop Cas. Just stop.”

Human and angel, staring each other down once more. Human and angel, tense with the strain of trying to hold back – trying to pretend. This time, however, Castiel made the first move. The distance between the two bodies lessened with every stride the trench-coated man took, the steps only taking a few short seconds.

Sam should back away. He knew that running was easier – it saved him from the pain; backing away would save him from the truth.

“Cas –”

“He told me to look after you.”

Scruff scratching against smooth skin – chapped lips against a jawline – Sam groaned, his eyes closing with the memory of how many times this had happened after Dean left. Castiel had kept his promise, in more ways than Sam could count – but Sam hadn’t kept his.

“Please,” the younger Winchester reached up, his hands moving immediately to that damned blue tie that was always backwards. He wanted it – no,  _needed_  it – gone. Along with every other piece of clothing.

“Not now, Sam.”

The angel was the responsible one. The angel was the one who took Sam into his arms and carried him to bed. The one who would heat up the Campbell’s soup and deliver it at just the right temperature. The one who whispered, over and over, that the hunter was not a bad person, that he was not defined by his mistakes.

That it was okay to take his time in keeping his promise.

And in the dark of night the hunter would always ask,

“Why me?”

And each time he was met with the same answer, the same humorless chuckle that made his heart feel a little less hollow.

“You always believed, Sam. Even when we let you down.”

Blue eyes, so bright that Sam could see them even in the dark. Blue eyes, so bright that Sam was absolutely certain that they could pierce right into his very soul.

“I’ll teach you how to cook tomorrow.” The hunter had no idea why he was saying this, but the words kept coming, and the younger Winchester was powerless to stop them. “I can teach you how to be more human, if that’s what you want. You always talk about how being an angel isn’t…pleasant.”

“What about school, Sam?”

He had to think about the question for a moment – while Sam knew that he could never go back, it would be difficult to word it in a way that Castiel would understand.

“With what’s been going on…with what’s happened…”

“You don’t want to go back.” There was that tone again; the matter of fact, ‘proud-of-myself’ tone that the angel carried so well.

“More that…I’m tired of making mistakes. I’m tired of doing things just because someone tells me to. I want to be happy, Cas. I want to be normal. But –”

“What is normal, Sam?”

The hunter opened his mouth, ready with an intelligent reply, only to close it. Trying to force out the words was mulling them, twisting them in his mind to the point that Sam’s definition of normal didn’t make any sense at all. Maybe this is what Dean had been trying to tell him for their entire life.

“I…don’t know, Cas.”

“You don’t have to know everything, Sam.” A smile in the voice, another press of lips against his skin, searing hot and achingly pleasant. “I find intelligence a turn on, but you need not try so hard.”

Hunter and angel, dissolving into a fit of chuckles, of short breathy gasps, of entangled hands pressing hard into the sheets.

Hunter and angel, driving across the country, ready to find Dean and ready to take on the truth.

Hunter and angel, standing side by side, hand in hand, fingers pressing against each other tighter and tighter as both sets of eyes slide over the words, ‘ _Rest in Peace.’_

Hunter, kneeling down, unable to see, unable to fight, because the truth always brings pain.

Angel, standing tall, because he is going to take care of his hunter. He’s going to take care of Sam.

People always say that God works in mysterious ways – but Sam Winchester never really understood that. Why had God taken away his mother, his girlfriend, his father, his –

“It’s okay, Sam.” Hands cradling his cheeks, and Sam felt his mouth turning upwards. He didn’t know when the angel had knelt down before him, but he was a celestial being. Anything was possible. Maybe that’s why Cas could always make him smile, even if only for a little while.

Dean must have known that.

“Thank you.”

Sam’s hands entwined in the angel’s short black hair, pulling at it as his head fell forward onto Castiel’s chest.

“No, Sam.” Castiel’s fingers were on Sam’s chin, easing it upwards, so that he was met with those brilliant, glossy blue eyes once more.

“Thank you for believing.”


End file.
